


Silver Flower

by Lady_Juno



Series: Love at First Sight [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love and First Sight, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Juno/pseuds/Lady_Juno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond is trying to get some work done, but finds himself distracted by a silver-haired elf-maid, singing in his garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [die_wiederkehr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_wiederkehr/gifts).



"Yes, I know, Erestor. Do let's skip ahead to the part where he got to the point." Elrond massaged his temples, leaning forward against his desk with a sigh. It had been bad enough to listen to the pompous fool talking to begin with. He could do without listening to the transcript of his entire bloody speech. After a moment, he glanced up at his faithful councilor, who was giving him a wounded look.

"I'm sorry, Erestor. I know you're doing your best. Today's just been-" The lord of Imladris cut off mid-sentence when a sound drifted in through the balcony doors, which he had left open in the hopes of tempting in a cool breeze. "...a long day." Elrond stood, his headache and his work forgotten. There was someone out in the garden (not unusual) who was singing to the flowers (not entirely normal, but not unheard of) and she was singing... he could only describe it as his _heartsong._ He could honestly say, even having lived as long as he had, that he had never heard anything so enchanting, so beautiful, in his entire life.

Cautiously, he approached the balcony, deaf to all but that song, until he reached the railing nearest the door. And there she was, bent over a spray of tiny blue flowers the men called "forget-me-nots" and the elves named lúnëloth.

_Lorien is far behind, I fear I must return,_

_For this place is not my home. For silver trees I yearn._

_Yet something here sings to my heart, something begs me stay._

_I've not seen the cause by night, nor by brightest day._

_Perhaps my eyes are growing weak, dazzled by the sun,_

_Blinded by the laughing streams as waters leap and run._

_This valley knows that I must go, sweet winds about me dance,_

_Silently the whisp'ring trees say 'give your heart a chance.'_

_I linger here, though I must go, to sing and ride and play._

_I may yet find the heart that calls for me and mine to stay._

Elrond stood, entranced, until Erestor tapped his shoulder sharply. Snapping out of his reverie, the lord looked around at his councilor and found the elf with folded arms, looking torn between disapproval and that unbearably smug expression he got every time Lindir started turning red and stammering around the blonde elleth in the Hall of Fire.

"Oh, wipe that look off your face." Elrond kept his voice down and ushered his companion hastily away from the railing. He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, but if there was a chance that the woman below hadn't noticed him, he would cling to it. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her. He recalled escorting her into the valley, and sitting to dinner with her. She was truly a lady of the stars, more beautiful even than her mother. She seemed ever to be distant, though, cool and polite--one might say she was aloof. He wondered what had happened to make her so.

"My lord." Erestor was giving him a truly irritated look, now, and Elrond felt the heat rise in his cheeks when he realized that he was still standing at the corner of his desk. He hadn't even made it back to his chair before getting distracted again.

"Yes, Erestor. I'm listening."

"No you're not. Well, not to me, in any case. My lord, if this is going to continue, perhaps I ought to call for that young lady down there, I'm sure you'd listen if _she_ was reading this-"

"Don't you dare." Elrond gave his councilor such a withering look that the elf actually slouched down into his chair. "The Lady Celebrían is not to be bothered under any but the most dire of circumstances, do you understand? She is an honored guest, and will be treated as such." It wasn't until after he'd finished his warning that it occurred to him that Erestor might have been making a joke. For the second time that day, he felt the blood rise in his cheeks, and hoped it wasn't visible.

"Yes. Well... as you were saying?" The elf lord sat and watched as Erestor moved to close the balcony doors. And though the sound of sweet singing was muffled, Elrond found it incredibly hard to pay attention to the stuffy, politically loaded suggestions of an elf he neither liked nor cared to appease. In the end, Erestor gave up and set the transcript on his desk.

"Call for me when you're feeling yourself again, my lord."

As he shut the door quietly on his distracted lord, Erestor thought it unlikely Elrond would quite feel 'himself' ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> lúnëloth - literally "small blue flowers." Not canon. Cobbled together from a Sindarin dictionary, and probably not linguistically correct.


End file.
